New York was a natural fit for John Lennon in 1971 – a king of rock ‘n’ roll who had divorced his bandmates and was now wedded to an avant-garde artist. Where else to escape the stodgy conservatism of England – where Lennon had been set up for a drug bust by an overzealous cop – than the cultural capital of the world?

For two years, he and second wife Yoko Ono lived at various addresses before taking up residence at the storied Dakota apartment building on Central Park West.

But his nine years in the Big Apple would test his love for Ono, America and his fellow lads from Liverpool.

The Nixon administration tried to have him deported; the finishing touches were put on the acrimonious Beatles breakup; and even he and Ono separated in 1973 – setting Lennon and their assistant, May Pang, loose for a year of partying in L.A. that Lennon would come to call his “lost weekend.”

Returning to New York, Lennon would have a reconciliation with Ono, thanks largely to the birth of their son, Sean, in 1975. Then, after five years without recording, Lennon released what would be both his comeback and final album, “Double Fantasy,” in 1980.

This is Lennon’s life in the city he called home, told in rare detail by those who loved him.

Bob Gruen, rock-celebrity photographer and author of “John Lennon: The New York Years”: When John first moved to New York, he was very exuberant – riding bicycles around the Village, walking across town, flipping out that he was here. He said if he’d lived in the time of Rome, he’d live in Rome. And at this time New York was the creative center of the world.

Dave Sholin, reporter for RKO Radio, who conducted the last interview with Lennon: He liked living open and free in New York. He didn’t want to be a prisoner because of celebrity.

Geraldo Rivera, then investigative reporter for ABC News and a neighbor of Lennon: John was incredibly approachable. He had adopted New York and had become such a part of the fabric of the city. He was like our cultural mayor.

Chris Charlesworth, U.S. correspondent, Melody Maker magazine (1970-77): Once I was with John at this bar on 13th Street. People kept asking him for autographs. After a while he says, “Do you notice it’s all men with beards and mustaches?” When I asked what he meant, he said, “When I was with The Beatles, it was Paul [McCartney] who got all the girls asking for autographs. I just got the spiritual blokes.”

Allan Steckler, executive in record company Apple Corp.’s New York office (1970-74): John was very serious about recording, so he almost never had visitors at the studio. But once, Jackie Onassis came in with her two kids. John didn’t know them at all. They’d just called up and asked to see him record – and he said sure.

Dick Cavett, PBS talk-show host: It was so hard for John and Yoko to go out. It was like a magnet sucking fragments to itself. They were instantly surrounded.

May Pang, author of “John Lennon: The Lost Weekend” and Lennon’s girlfriend during his separation from Ono: One weekend, while John and I were together, I told him I knew a great way to see the city. “Let’s get on the bus.” So we get on at Lexington Avenue and ride south and whenever people got on they’d start whispering, “Is that John Lennon?” Finally, around 23rd Street, someone gets up the nerve to ask, “Are you John Lennon?” John turns to me and said: “I think it’s time to get off.”

Steve Spiro, the first NYPD officer on the scene of Lennon’s murder: He’d be shopping, you know, carrying Sean on his back in one of those carriers, and I used to go by and nobody would bother him. That was the beautiful West Side.

Gruen: He’d go out to bars, but he’d switch pretty often. Whenever he went somewhere, within 15 or 20 minutes he’d be so mobbed after people hit the pay phones. So he’d go to another place.

Bobby Seale, Black Panther Party chairman: The second time I visited John at the Dakota was in 1972. My two bodyguards – who were armed – were with me. The guard on the street told us his partner was off that night and there was this white guy who’d been coming by hassling John. So I told my bodyguards to stay downstairs. I went upstairs alone. Turns out the guy came by a little while later. My bodyguards told him, “If you keep hangin’ ’round here, you will get hurt.” The guy didn’t leave, so my bodyguards jacked him up. Later, John said, “Thanks, Bobby.” He thought it was great how we scared this guy off.

Larry Kane, author of “Lennon Revealed”: John loved living in New York. The only thing he was obsessed with during the early ’70s was not being deported.

Rivera: John was fighting this dumb guilty plea to a misdemeanor marijuana charge in the UK and the Nixon administration – or what was left of it in the Ford administration – was trying to get him deported for being an undesirable alien.

Gruen: John and Yoko hired lawyers. They went to Washington. They found out the government had been following them. And they won their case to be granted a green card and gain residency in America.

Dan Ingram, veteran deejay: A few years after he got his green card, I saw him on the street and he said, “Well, I’m not a bastard anymore.”

Tony Bramwell, childhood friend of The Beatles and former staffer: In 1978, I was in New York handling Bruce Springsteen. I wanted John to meet him, but John got freaked out. Bruce was on the cover of Newsweek, and I don’t think John wanted to deal with all that fame again.

Bruce “Cousin Brucie” Morrow, veteran deejay: In 1974, I asked John to appear at a fund-raiser for the Police Athletic League in Central Park. He said, “I’m not ready to sing again yet.” I told him, “The fans just want to honor you.” Then comes the big day. There’s like 100,000 people. John gets nervous as I’m about to introduce him. “There’re going to be upset when I don’t sing,” he said. He never understood why people loved him so much.

Rivera: We met in the winter of ’71-’72, while I was doing the Willowbrook exposé. I got a call from Yoko shortly after that and they wanted to know how they could help. We agreed to have a fund-raising concert in Madison Square Garden and use the money. Many of those retarded kids were allowed to come to the matinee at Madison Square Garden. John and Yoko put up $50,000 of their own money, which was huge in that time, to buy seats for them. We raised about a quarter of a million dollars.

Mark Lapidos, Beatlefest founder: In 1974, I heard John would be appearing at a March of Dimes walkathon. I had the idea for Beatlefest, but didn’t want to do it without the band’s cooperation. I knew John was staying at the Sherry Netherland, so I just went up to his room. John’s eyes lit up when I talked about all the fans getting together. He liked the fact that I was a genuine person – out to raise money for charity.

Mike Douglas, talk-show host: John called out of the blue one day and asked to do the show. So I suggested a whole week of co-hosting. He brought me a whole new audience. While the shows were airing, I went to get a haircut one day and all these hippies came up to me and said, “Right on, baby.”

Gruen: After a while, Yoko didn’t really want to live with anybody who was focused on being depressed and drunk. That’s when they were apart for a while. But they were in touch with each other constantly.

Arlene Reckson, assistant to Lennon and Ono (1973-75): The job for John and Yoko’s assistant was between me and May Pang. May was younger – so she could fly cheaper – which is why she got the job. But I wound up working for John in 1973, teaching May to drive. By that time, she’d become John’s girlfriend.

Uri Geller, paranormalist: Elton John begged me to help get John onstage for the [Nov. 28, 1974] Madison Square Concert. John kept refusing, but eventually said, “If you can get Yoko back into my life, I’ll do it.” I told him I’d do it telepathically. John believed me so he did the concert. That night, at the Pierre, they got back together.

*Mario Casciano, former Lennon assistant: In December of ’74, George, Paul and Ringo were in New York. They were supposed to meet at The Plaza to sign the papers that would put an end to The Beatles. It would have been the last time all four were together. But John didn’t want to go. So he sent over this balloon that had been part of a promotion for his “Walls & Bridges” album. It said, “Happy Christmas, War is Over” on one side. On the other it said, “Listen to this Balloon.” George had a fit. But later that month, John did sign the papers. That allowed the lawyers to begin dismantling everything.

Charlesworth: In June of ’74, The Who were playing the Garden. I was pretty good friends with Keith Moon, so we went to see John at the Pierre. The only alcohol in the place was this expensive bottle of wine that [then-Beatles manager] Allen Klein – whom John was suing during the breakup – had given him. It cost like $1,000. But John was afraid to drink it, in case Allen was trying to poison him.

Albert Maysles, documentary filmmaker: A few weeks before John was killed, I went up to his apartment to visit. What struck me was how conscious they were of security. Why all this fear? It almost seemed inappropriate.

Douglas: I called John in 1980. I was taping in Hawaii and wanted him on for a week again. He said he couldn’t spare that much time, but would fly out for one show. So we booked him. And then he was shot – by this creep who’d flown to New York from Hawaii. So ironic. So tragic.

Quotes

‘The news bulletin was very simple… but I knew right away it was heavy.’

– Vin Scelsa, WNEW DJ

‘We were on the number 4 train when the conductor came up to me and said: ‘Did you hear John Lennon is dead?’

– Curtis Sliwa

‘I knew he was the victim when we got word. It was a jolt to the city.’

– Police Commissioner Ray Kelly

‘The thing that I felt so strongly, that everyone did at the time, was that he had become such a New Yorker.’

– Nora Ephron

‘I was home and heard it on the news. He was one of the artists in white rock culture who identified with black artists.’

– Al Sharpton

‘I was at Gracie Mansion when I heard. He had captivated people, in some mystical way.’